The Yellow Hibiscus Chapter 14

"Wait a minute," she called out, scrutinizing me 360 degrees.

"Why don't you call her?" I bluffed, holding my gaze while looking directly into her eyes. My heart sunk to my knees when she walked to a phone mounted on the wall. She picked it up, dialed, refocused, and watched me like a cat watching a mouse.

Mom always said, 'everything you want to do is inside you, all of your weaknesses and strengths. You must dig deep within you.' I dug deep for the courage to smile while taking gum from my bag and offering some to her.

She declined, hung up, shook her head with the resignation of one in defeat, then said, "That girl was born with a telephone in her mouth." She returned the key and said, "This way, please," walking a few feet away, still clutching onto the card. She led me to 391 and walked away. I waited until she was out of sight, then I opened the drawer while quickly scanning around.

Inside was a brown rectangular-shaped box about 6 x10 inches. I grabbed the box, surveyed the area again, then hurried out. A familiar voice yelled after me at the exit,

Hey!"

My heart raced as I slowly turned around.

"You have to sign this, and you still have to make the payment," she insisted, holding up the signature card.

"Why it's empty, and she is . . . I mean, I'm only two days overdue."

"You have to, and please leave the key."

I nervously forged Mom's signature, which she compared to the one on the card. Having a power of attorney for my parents, I could sign my mom's signature like a pro. I slapped a one-hundred-dollar bill on her desk, "Keep the change," I said and hurried downstairs, almost breathless. The office downstairs was packed, so I hastened out as if an inferno was after me!

Back home, I sat in my armchair and gingerly opened the box inside my apartment. Inside was a large yellow kite diamond. It was about eight or nine inches long — slant in position at the top and bottom edges of the box it lays in. My guess was to prevent any movement and fit it in place. Curious, I lifted it and inspected it, ‘yellow diamond’ Could this be real? I mused, turning it this way and that. ‘Yellow diamond!’ Do diamonds even come in yellow? As I focused a little closer, the color began to fade, and a large yellow flower appeared inside.

Surprised, I leaped to my feet, dropping the diamond on the floor. My heart was pounding as I gazed at it, transfixed.

Eventually, I picked it up from the floor and peered closer once more. Frightened at this exploding diamond, I released it from my grasp as the petals waved at me.

“O-o-oh mm-my G-G-God!” I stuttered, rushing to the bedroom door. “Oh my God!” I kept repeating as I stood inches from my door, watching it.

As I scrutinized the diamond, the petals grew brighter and didn’t change back. How the flower got inside, I couldn’t tell, even though I examined it from every side. It didn’t have any marks anywhere indicating an entrance or exit. I studied this puzzle, cornered in a maze of hows and whys. My thoughts were racing.

‘Come on,’ I admonished myself. ‘What can this do to you,’ I convince myself with bolstered confidence. “It’s your imagination and the stress of your grief. Yeah,” I convinced myself to stop being dramatic. It wasn’t a creature that could bite my head off. Was it? I grabbed a dishcloth from the kitchen, wrapped it around my hand, then carefully picked up the diamond off the floor without actually touching it, wondering what it meant. Who did this and why? My brain demanded an answer. I didn’t have one.

It wouldn’t have been so creepy, except the flower appeared real and alive. I carefully placed it on the coffee table beside the vase. I picked up the box it arrived in again and turned it every way. I found a small brown envelope pasted to the bottom. I detached it. It unsealed. A birth certificate, a single piece of paper with E. Greenburg, and a phone number beside the name fluttered out.

My heartbeat rose and then seemed to stop as I read the name on the birth certificate: Apikaila Akela Greenburg, the same as mine, except for my surname. It listed my correct birth date. The birth mother’s name was Tara Futtimoo, and the father’s name was Francis Greenburg!

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